


Making Amends

by arthur_pendragon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Getting His Comeuppance, Banter, Canon Era, Colds, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 01:04:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16186865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthur_pendragon/pseuds/arthur_pendragon
Summary: It’s (not) Arthur’s fault that Merlin’s come down with a cold.





	Making Amends

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for giving me the opportunity to contribute to COiNELOT!

Arthur blamed the rain. Merlin blamed Arthur. And then Merlin sneezed all over Arthur’s favourite tunic in revenge.

“Dis _gusting_!” Arthur hastily stepped back from his  virus- reservoir  of a manservant, finding  the least rickety chair in Gaius’s workshop to lounge on while Merlin used  his scarf to wipe his nose and look pathetic.

Merlin stared blearily at Arthur, wrapped in about fifty blankets and shivering next to the fire. “I resign as your servant,” he said baldly and sneezed again. Arthur shared a wary glance with Gaius, who shrugged and went back to heating soup for Merlin, leaving Arthur to bear the brunt of Merlin’s snot-filled fury alone. 

“I  reject your resignation. It’s only a piddling cold, not the end of the world. Who was to know it’d start raining out of nowhere like that?”

“‘Arthur, perhaps this hunting trip is a bad idea, there’s  rainclouds looming in the distance.’ ‘ _I’_ _m_ _a_ _great_ _big_ _prat_ ,  _I’ll_ _bloody_ _do_ _what_ _I_ _want_ _and_ _I_ _don’t_ _care_ _if_ _you_ _die_ , Mer _lin_.’”

“It’s a _cold_ ,” Arthur repeated, rolling his eyes. Gaius, still not partaking in the conversation (probably for the sake of his sanity; Arthur entirely sympathised), ladled soup into a bowl. Arthur jumped up and took the utensil out of Gaius’s hands.

“Absolutely not,” Merlin said, behind them. “Go away.” Another sneeze. Arthur didn’t want to think about Merlin’s cherry-red nose and ruffled hair too much; that way lay a heart fulminated from excessive affection, and his aim was to endear himself to his manservant again, not take one little look at Merlin’s precious moue and snuff it. 

“Say ah,” Arthur intoned, sitting down beside Merlin. Merlin stubbornly pursed his lips shut and glared at Arthur, reaching for the bowl. Arthur lifted it out of range, holding Merlin’s gaze calmly as he rested a gentle hand on the back of Merlin’s head. 

“I’m sorry, okay?” he entreated. “I should’ve listened to you.”

“Hmph.” But Merlin’s eyes were gleaming brightly with mischief. 

“Just—” Arthur was stopped abruptly by Merlin’s lips on his.

They were very nice lips. Chapped only slightly, and wet, and deliciously warm, so Arthur couldn’t be faulted for reciprocating, could he, parting Merlin’s lips with a tongue and a sigh, deepening the kiss, swallowing Merlin’s  gasp — and  spilling the  scalding  soup all over his lap.

Merlin, smirking, watched Arthur majestically muffle a yelp. “You deserved that.” 

“Oh, shut up.”


End file.
